


Absence

by ElnaK



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Au after Captain America Vol. 5 (2005) #33, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 13:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17868527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElnaK/pseuds/ElnaK
Summary: Steve was back, alive, despite the Red Skull's best efforts, and Tony never came to see him. And people were not telling him something.When he finally asked, Carol showed him the door.





	Absence

**Author's Note:**

> This, despite only taking place after Secret Invasion (and possibly Siege, but I didn't mention it, so for all we know it didn't happen, or something else happened instead), because Steve was, hum, not disponible for the moment before that, is an AU from Captain America Vol.5 #33. You might not want to google it until you've read it all if you don't remember what happens during that particular issue, for the mystery, but really you can do whatever you want, especially as it's not like there aren't several other ways that issue could have gone.
> 
> Also, apologies if I didn't get Misty 100% right. I have read only some things with her in it ( aka, is there Tony in it too ) and while I got the no-nonsense, good-cop vibe, I'm not a specialist of her character.

Steve hadn't expected it to go smoothly, especially considering how they'd last parted ways – and, sure, it hadn't been quite as terrible as with Tony, but still – but so far there had been only a little awkwardness, some silences, and a bit of jaw-grinding. No deal-breaker.

They'd spoken, Carol and him, about her having missed him, about his funeral – he still hadn't watched the video, he didn't want to watch the video, he wouldn't watch the video. Sam had told him what it'd boiled down to, anyway, including the fact that he'd had to step up because Tony hadn't wanted to give a speech in his honor. Or something. Sam hadn't been exactly precise with the details of the ceremony, and Steve was grateful for that. He didn't want to hear about how they'd put him in the ground any more than absolutely necessary.

A bit about the fighting, too, but that had boiled down to her being angry at his pig-headed ways, not necessarily against what he'd stood for.

Mostly she'd been telling him about what had happened after.

“It didn't take long for Gyrich to take over, actually. And, you know the man. He's not exactly a villain, but he's...”

Steve gestured with his piece of pizza, remembering all too well “Dell Rusk” and Gyrich's part in both sides of the Red Zone incident.

“...entirely unable to trust superheroes to do their job?”

Which was, well. Of course superheroes could make mistakes, they were humans too – and those who weren't were still people – but the point was, everyone made mistakes, including Gyrich. Not trusting superheroes could only be hypocritical if you trusted normal people to handle it instead.

“Hmm. So, Gyrich took over, mostly because some people...”

A glare, and on some points, Steve guessed he deserved it. After all, he could remember Manhattan on fire vividly, and he could hardly argue that it hadn't been, for this at least, mostly his side's fault. It had been a mistake.

“...managed to prove his point that superheroes couldn't be trusted at every turn...”

Now that might have been a bit of an exaggeration.

“...which resulted in him being given the post as soon as SHRA was left without a head.”

Steve finished his pizza, a sour taste in his mouth, before asking – because he still wasn't clear on what had happened exactly for that to end up this way, for SHRA to need a new head, because...

Well.

“That's what I don't understand.”

Carol blinked at him, put down her piece of pizza. Frowned.

“The part about how some people throwing a temper tantrum might have given the good citizens of this country the impression that we fought only for ourselves?”

There was a bite to her word, and Steve winced. Looked down at his hands.

Not at his friend.

“Not, not that.”

He heard Carol sigh, looked up. Saw her deflating.

“I... Back then, I thought Tony had... I thought...”

Carol's face took on a wary expression, but also, he found, a note of compassion. She wasn't sure where he was going with that, but for now... For now she felt sad about what had happened. To him. To all of them. To their common friend.

Steve wasn't sure that was going to last.

“At first, I thought it was Extremis. That it had made him... different. That it wasn't quite Tony I was fighting. Not anymore. That he wasn't really human anymore, he wasn't himself, and... Maybe a shadow of who he used to be. I thought... I thought it was all a power grab of some kind, but... “

Steve saw Carol's expression closing back on itself, as comprehension of his words fell. As if it was all starting to make sense to her – his actions, his reactions, his mistakes – and she really didn't like the picture it was painting.

Steve still didn't get it, though.

If Tony hadn't been on a power-grab – considering he'd let the job to Gyrich of all people, considering he'd basically disappeared not long after Steve's death – then what?

Carol, though, shifted on her seat – not looking him in the eyes anymore. Better to address that first.

Or, to let her say what was on her mind.

“Steve... You do realize that none of us, except Clint and the likes, and, yes, Tony too, before... None of us are really human anymore, you know that. Not by the standard you're dictating here, at least.”

Did she think...?

“No, God, no, that's not what I meant. I... I just thought, beyond the body, I believed that it... It wasn't Tony, just Extremis. That Tony was...”

Barely not dead.

Steve didn't like the look – pity – Carol gave him at that, especially as it really wasn't flattering – disgust, he thought, but he wasn't certain, and it was Carol, she knew him, she couldn't possibly think he really believed that not being 100% human meant you weren't a person, that changing into something else also made you someone else. She had to understand that it wasn't because of what Tony had become, but because of how he'd behaved afterwards – because that hadn't been Tony, it hadn't been, it had been just a shadow, Tony would never have done that, he wouldn't have...

“Right.”

Her smile said the contrary – forced.

“Of course you didn't mean it like that.”

He decided to work past it. If nothing else could convince her, he'd have to rely on his actions. He'd have to prove himself, like he always did.

“Except, time passed, and well. I talked to Tony a few times, even during the fighting, and...”

Surprise on her face. Carol hadn't known. At all.

“Anyway. I talked to him, and, it was... It was him. It wasn't... something else. Of course, I still thought, even as I noticed that, that Extremis was doing something to him, that it was inhibiting his better qualities, or that it was making him drunk on power, or...”

Bad choice of words – perfect choice of words. It was exactly what he'd thought. And he could tell Carol understood the exact implications.

She didn't punch him, so there was that.

“In the end, even if it was Tony, I thought there was something wrong, that he had lost the human quality of being an individual, in a way, of seeing individuals. That he was aiming for the Top, because that was what he needed to do to regulate everything, our lives, our rights, our freedom.”

Carol snorted, but gestured for him to go on.

“Ah, yes, power corrupts and all that. Please do not tell me what you thought about all of us who followed, because I don't want to hear it.”

That was... a conversation for another time, he guessed.

She was looking back at him, though.

He wasn't quite sure if it was a good thing or not.

“But obviously... He walked out, he didn't take his responsabilities, he didn't stay at the helm, he... So it can't be a power-grab. If anything, it's him not dealing with what he's done, with...”

Steve heard a crack. Carol was grabbing onto the table, and the wood was giving way. She didn't have the shadow of a smile on her face – not even a fake one – and it was obvious she was waiting for what would come next.

He wondered if maybe she was angry at Tony for that too.

“Your question, Steve.”

All of a sudden he felt like he'd ended up in a minefield and had no idea when or how exactly he'd gotten there. The obvious answer would be all the shit Carol and those who'd registered had gone through after Gyrich had taken the helm of SHRA, and before the Skrulls revealed themselves – Steve was a bit uncertain as to when exactly they'd gotten Gyrich himself, actually, but the consensus seemed to be that the real man had been in office for a time before he'd been taken too. The shit Tony hadn't been there to prevent, to make sure it didn't happen like he'd said he would while backing up Registration, the shit he'd walked out of.

“Where was Tony during all that? Did he think, what, that he didn't have any responsibility here? That he'd... done his job, and that was that?”

How could he have left them all to clean up behind him, and never showed up again?

This time Carol forced herself to smile – it felt razor-sharp, aggressive – as she stood up.

Steve had the feeling he was going to be shown the door.

Still.

“Where is he?”

Tony hadn't even come to see him after he'd come back.

Carol grabbed his arm – it would have been light, if he hadn't been able to feel the tension in her grip – and pushed him towards the door.

She looked furious.

“If that's what you're going to ask... Steve, I'm happy you're alive, I'm happy you're well, I'm happy you're back, but if this is what you're going to say...”

She let go of him, only to open the door.

“Get the fuck out of my flat.”

 

**oOo**

 

Maria Hill wasn't Steve's favorite person, but considering she'd been Tony's second-in-command, and was still second-in-command even now that Fury had come back – apparently he'd showed up after Tony's disappearance, glaring at everyone and especially Hill, and grumbling about idiots who couldn't help but actually be right about everything, and had been the main reason why Gyrich's catastrophic handling of SHRA hadn't ended with a massacre – it stood to reason that she could tell Steve what exactly had happened for Carol to be in such an antagonistic mood.

He'd have talked to Nick, except Nick had ignored his call, and sent Hill in his stead. Which, okay. Something was definitely going on. Fury generally tried not to avoid Steve unless there was something he really, really didn't want to lie to him about, but would have to.

Hill raised an eyebrow at him, and did not stop filling her report on... apparently the slime attack in San Francisco. Somehow that kind of shit wasn't even surprising anymore.

“What can I do for you, Captain?”

The interrogation mark was barely audible, and it was obvious they were both remembering their last meeting – Hill ordering him to round up the heroes who were likely to oppose SHRA once it would be law, and then turning her men against him when he refused.

Steve gritted his teeth.

“I've been trying to figure out where exactly Tony went when he decided he'd rather wash his hands of the mess he'd made.”

Good job, Rogers.

Diplomacy really wasn't his strong suit.

For a moment Hill looked like she couldn't quite believe that he was standing here, before her, asking that particular question. Then she tilted her head at him, squinted as if she was trying to assess whether her idea of the situation was right or not.

An unpleasant – thin, fake, forced – smile took over her face.

“The official story, Captain, is that following a large attack in China and the need for his personal intervention, and due to personal circumstances that came during that intervention, Director Stark had to step down indefinitely. He offered suggestions for his replacements, but if SHIELD was indeed handed back to Director Fury as per his wish, the same cannot be said about the gestion of Registration, which went to Henry Gyrich against Director Stark's judgment. What followed is not relevant to SHIELD, and therefore it is not my place to inform you of it.”

There was a lie – more than a simple omission – somewhere in there, and Steve couldn't quite find which part was it. China implied the Mandarin – it generally did, when Tony was mixed up in it too – but the supervillain was being handled by the chinese superteam right now, and Steve would have heard if Tony was with them. Moreover, even if he'd been badly hurt, it wouldn't have prevented him from coming to see Steve after his return.

Something wasn't right.

And the fact that Hill looked like she was waiting for him to call her on that lie was giving him the impression he'd missed something rather important. Something enormous, even.

The exact thing Carol hadn't wanted to tell him, to the point of kicking him out of her place.

“And the actual truth?”

It had been the “official story”, after all, and Steve knew how little that meant when it came to SHIELD.

Hill's fake smile took an ugly spin, which she didn't even try to hide.

“Maybe you should ask your friends that question.”

Yeah, he'd tried that already.

“I asked Miss Marvel, and she showed me the door.”

That seemed to amuse the SHIELD agent in a dark way. Hill spinned her pen between her fingers, and leaned back in her chair.

“I was talking about your other friends, Captain Rogers. The ones you stood by when you decided you'd rather campaign for your own rights, and to hell with everyone else's.”

Steve gritted his teeth – harder – and did not answer. This wasn't the moment to discuss this – and it wasn't someone he wanted to discuss it with. Not when he was already busy trying to find out where the hell Tony had disappeared to.

“I see. Thank you for your time, deputy director.”

 

**oOo**

 

Steve was mulling over this all – there was something, something they weren't telling him, but he had no idea what and apparently asking was the wrong way to do it – as he walked down the street towards his flat. Which might explain why he didn't react right away when a mugger tried to threaten him with a knife and a terrible one-liner.

Not that, even with a moment of confusion, Steve wouldn't have been able to take the criminal down.

He didn't have to, though, as Spider-Man came swinging in and the mugger ended up webbed around a street light, before Steve could even go and stare the evil-doer down – Tony used to say it was his disappointed-in-you face, as if Steve had looked at him like that often enough for Tony to get used to it, which couldn't be, right?

Peter turned around, and though the mask hid it, Steve had no doubt about the cocky smile underneath.

“Here, sir, Spider-Man to your... Oh, Cap!”

Steve's upper lip twitched, amused for a moment.

“Spider-Man.”

From what he'd gathered, the attempt against May Parker's life had been one of the reasons Peter had left the New Avengers a few months after Steve's death, but not the only reason. The fact that she'd survived, in the end, had helped, of course, but after the break-up between Peter and MJ – it hadn't lasted, and maybe it had been a good thing, too, because they seemed to be better than ever, now, after some time apart to think about things – and his secret identity that wasn't so secret anymore, Spider-Man had said he needed to stop crime-fighting for a while. He was back at it with Steve's return, though.

But not back with the Avengers.

Spider-Man twitched under Steve's gaze.

“Cap.”

Steve could answer by repeating Peter's alias. He could.

And then Peter would call him Cap again, and Steve would feel obligated to acknowledge Peter's alias again, and then...

Yeah, no.

“I could have handled that.”

Peter's eyes – his lenses? How exactly had he made a mask that widened around the eyes exactly? – went wide, and the younger man tried to look away, except that would mean looking at the gathering crowd instead, and while they weren't being hunted down anymore, Steve didn't think his friend would be very comfortable with squirming under the attention so openly yet.

“I... I... Of course you could. I hadn't recognized you, that's all! And well, better the two of us than neither, right? Like, of course you don't want to be mugged, but would you rather it happened to someone defenseless, without either of us here to...”

Peter's babbling died down.

“I mean...”

“I know what you mean, Spider-Man.”

A sigh, and Peter was looking around. Steve heard a siren not far away, and decided they could move away from the mugger, before the police got here, and without risk of him getting away.

“Come on, we'll catch up somewhere else.”

People opened a way as they walked out, barely not uncomfortable at the sight of Spider-Man's costume – good thing Steve was in civies, really. People might still like Captain America, but he'd also gotten a few distrustful looks, which was, he guessed, fair, considering how some of those people might have lived in the buildings they had... in the buildings... around the Baxter Building. Before.

They ducked into an alley, and Peter climbed up a fire escape, soon followed by Steve, in order to get out of sight if someone finaly decided to come and go after them.

No one did, but.

Steve could understand the precaution.

“...How it's going, Spider-Man?”

“I... Well. It wasn't... It wasn't funny, after Gyrich got at the head of SHRA, and then there were the Skrulls, and...”

Peter shut down then, a startled look – seriously, how did he do it with the mask? – on his face, as if he'd just realized something. The younger man turned around sharply to stare at Steve, only to let out an anxious laugh as Steve raised an eyebrow at him.

“No one told you about Jarvis, right?”

Steve must have made a face, because Peter took a quick look around and took his mask off – everyone knew what he looked like, true, but his looks weren't that particular that not letting people see him over and over again wouldn't let him get by anonymously enough. It worked for Steve, after all – even if women tended to look at him, they didn't make the connection with Captain America, with “Steve Rogers”.

It had never worked for Tony – unless Tony went clean-shaven, put on glasses, and / or dyied his hair blond. Steve could pass off as a Captain-America-like person, even while looking like himself, whereas Tony was always Tony Stark, unless he actively tried not to be.

Was it what Tony was doing right now? Was he playing Clark Kent somewhere in Europe, pretending he wasn't Tony Stark – letting them all deal with his problems?

But this wasn't about Tony right now, was it? It was about Jarvis.

Had something happened to Jarvis?

Someone would have told him if something had happened to Jarvis, right?

Peter squinted at him, and...

“No one told you about Jarvis.”

It was possible they'd forgotten. Steve had been gone more than a year. He'd been dead more than long enough that, once he'd come back, there had been a lot to catch up on – it had already been like that after the ice, when Steve had had to learn about the future, find his friends again, get up-to-date on the current threats to peace. Tony had been there to help him with that, and then Sharon, Sam, and everyone else.

But they'd have told him if something had happened to Jarvis, right?

“Was he... hurt?”

Steve's voice sounded weird to his own ears, as he considered the possibility that...

Peter took a step back, hands in the air, as if to assure Steve that everyone was alright.

“Jarvis is fine, Cap, don't worry. But, right after... Well, the Skrulls. They got to him. And we didn't know, until. You know. The invasion and all that. Fake-Jarvis almost got away with stealing Luke and Jessica's baby, but in the end the Avengers found Danielle, no problems. And Jarvis is fine... I think.”

Better than the alternative, Steve guessed. He should go and see Jarvis, tell him that...

Wait.

“You think?”

Peter squirmed, and didn't look at Steve.

“He... left. He's not working for the Avengers anymore, whichever group you want to talk about, New, Mighty, East Coast... And, the thing is, we should have known it wasn't him. Because, you know. And that's the reason why he left, after we got him back. He said that despite all of the Avengers' qualities, he wouldn't be able to work for them anymore, not after what had happened.”

Steve found it a bit weird that Jarvis would leave just because the Avengers hadn't been able to tell it wasn't him – it didn't sound like the old butler at all.

He was about to say as much, when Peter added:

“I mean, that's what I heard. It's not like I'm an Avengers anymore, these days. Maybe I got it wrong, maybe there was another reason. But, it sounds about right. Considering.”

Once again Steve had the unpleasant feeling he had missed something, but couldn't tell what exactly. It probably had something to do with everything he'd missed. He should ask... someone. About what had happened with Jarvis exactly.

But, for now.

He put a hand on Peter's shoulder, trying to be comforting – or something; Steve wasn't feeling particularly comforted himself, but he could try for Peter.

“You know, if you want back in one of these days... There's always a place for you on the Avengers.”

Peter tensed under his hand, and Steve wondered if it was something he'd said.

“Not that you have to, son. Just, if one day...”

Peter – Spider-Man looked around – definitely not at Steve – visibly ill-at-ease with the proposition.

“I... It's not that... Look, things happened, and I... I just didn't feel comfortable on the team anymore.”

And before Steve could ask more, the younger man was spinning a web to the next building and disappearing from his sight.

Steve gritted his teeth. Was that all that was left of the Avengers, in the wake of Tony's fuck-ups?

He really needed to find the man, and screw his head back on the right way, because... Because they couldn't leave it like that. They just couldn't.

 

**oOo**

 

The best bet, Steve guessed, was to go and ask Pepper Potts. Miss Potts was definitely one of the most important people in Tony's life – from what Steve had gathered on the situation, they'd been pining after each other a long time before Steve even woke up from the ice, except Tony had had heart issues back then and his secret identity to deal with, and Pepper had eventually fallen in love with Tony's chauffeur, Happy Hogan.

Who was dead, because...

Steve clenched his fists as he thought back to one of his last conversations with Tony. How Tony had dared to ask if... if...

Anyway. Tony and Pepper, even while they'd given up on anything intimate with each other, still loved each other. They couldn't – and wouldn't, not with Happy in the picture, not with him out of it, not after everything – be couple, because it hurt too much now – and Steve, well. Steve knew about that, didn't he? He'd tried, and tried, and tried, with Sharon, but each try seemed like more of a catastrophe, perhaps because they were pretending everything between them hadn't happened, a bit more each time, and now...

But, couple or not couple – and what did he know? Maybe they had finally gotten together – Pepper Potts had to know where Tony was. What he was doing. Why he wasn't there, with everyone, doing his part.

After all, Miss Potts was now CEO of SE, wasn't she? Tony probably still owned something like 99% of the company, because he wouldn't go around letting anyone get their hands on his life's work, not after the Deltites, not after Stane, not after Morgan Stark had sold the company away to Fujikawa, not after all the times Tony had had to wrestle his inventions out of reach... But he wasn't heading it anymore.

Which was why Steve was now standing in Pepper Potts' office, as the woman was staring him down even from her chair, as if she couldn't quite figure out why he'd even want to be here.

“Captain?”

They had met, once or twice, just here and there, along the years, but they hadn't exactly gotten to know each other. The most he knew about her was from Tony – about how efficient she was, about how resilient she was, about... In person, though, Steve had only witnessed a few worried looks, and the sad frowns she used to give Tony whenever he was running himself ragged and she knew it, but couldn't say a thing because in the end, the world mattered more than Tony Stark's life and they both knew it.

“Miss Potts. I wanted to...”

How did he formulate that? I wanted to know where the hell Tony disappeared to? As if she'd answer something like that. Tony's employees – when they didn't get it into their heads that somehow he was ripping them off or the general cause for global warming – were loyal to a fault, because for all the flaws people tried to pin on Tony, the man had always paid his employees better, had always given them good working benefits, had always listened to their concerns if they were founded. Tony was one of the privileged rich, yes, but unlike with most of them, the dripple-down effect did exist with him.

If they didn't have a goddamned good reason to betray him – like, say, direct threat on their lives – they generally didn't.

Miss Potts put a stack of paper together, her eyes still on him, and as Steve watched her tidy up the corners, he felt like she was doing it on purpose. Like she'd throw it at his face if she wasn't so controled.

He wasn't exactly sure why, but.

“This is about Tony, I presume?”

Which. Obvious enough. It could have been about the Maria Stark Foundation, he supposed, but as it had never stopped founding the Avengers – okay, the New Avengers hadn't gotten money, for obvious reasons, but the Mighty Avengers had, and now that they were all back on the good side of the law it wasn't a concern anymore – there wasn't exactly a reason for him to be here.

Except.

Tony.

Steve nodded, stiffly, and Miss Potts took a deep, calming breath.

“Captain Rogers, I don't want to talk about Tony. Not with you. Not after everything you did. Not after everything you didn't do. So if that's your only reason to...”

“Eveything I...?!”

Miss Potts glared him down again, and Steve shut up. He understood that, maybe she was angry at him – no maybe about it, she definitely was – but this... This wasn't all his fault. It wasn't... Tony had done his fair share of it, too. And Steve had been the one who'd ended up killed, not Tony, so really what was this about?

“I'm not saying you didn't care about him, Captain. Only that you weren't his friend. There's a difference, you know.”

...What?

“Why do you think I wasn't...”

Once again, she didn't wait for him to finish his question. She stood up, and Steve could already see her escorting him out of her office. It seemed to happen a lot, lately.

She gave him a sad smile, but there really wasn't any sympathy behind it.

“If you'd been his friend, you would have worried about the bullets he took for you all, instead of blaming him for the few he couldn't stop.”

And for a moment Steve wondered if she was really talking about him at all. Was she... angry at herself? There was something. There was something, and once again it all fell into place, but the details weren't exactly right, and Steve had to wonder, once more, if maybe there was something he was missing, because it worked, but it didn't seem like it should work.

Still. Regardless of what she felt about it all, there was something she'd said, and he needed to address it. Because Tony hadn't...

Through gritted teeth, Steve tried to reinstate the truth for what it was.

“He didn't take any bullet for anyone, Miss Potts. He seld out. He decided not taking any bullet himself was more important than standing for what was right. That's why I didn't support him. Not because he wasn't my friend, but because friendship isn't meant to endorse things you don't believe in.”

The look she gave him, then. Steve would have called it pity, perhaps mocking contempt, but he knew he was in the right, and Miss Potts – for all that she couldn't understand, because she wasn't one of them – didn't seem like someone who would support something she knew to be wrong.

Then again, neither had Tony. So either Tony had been wrong, or... Or he'd been in the wrong and had known it. Hadn't cared. Steve still wasn't certain which one it was.

Miss Potts opened the door for him.

Her smile was cold.

“If you had been his friend, Captain, you'd have considered the fact that maybe he was doing what he did for a reason. You'd have given him the benefit of the doubt. You'd have tried to work with him first, instead of immediately deciding that he was 'selling out', as you said. You'd have cared enough to listen. And more than that, you'd have worried about the bullets you would have known he was taking for you. That, regarless of his smile. Because if you'd been his friend, you would have known that a smile from Tony Stark was no guarantee of his free will.”

When she closed the door behind him, Steve realized he hadn't asked his question.

But he couldn't go back in here, now, could he?

 

**oOo**

 

He was decidedly not taking his – not-so-sweet – time to get back to his flat – where Bucky and Sam were staying right now, and where he could ask the questions that had been plaguing him since he'd come back, but hadn't been courageous enough to actually ask until today, not that anyone was actually giving him answers – when he heard a woman's voice calling him.

“Steve!”

Not Cap – which was... a relief, he supposed.

And also meant he personally knew whoever this was.

Misty Knight soon emerged from the late-evening crowd, looking him up and down, as if to reassure herself it was really him. Most people did that, these days.

He was a bit surprised when she gave him a loose hug, her bionic arm cool even through his jacket and t-shirt. It made him think of Bucky for a moment.

Misty took a step back and grinned at him. She looked tired.

“Good to see you alive. Not that I didn't know about it, but, you know how it is. We hear a lot of things in our line of work. Not all of them turn out to be true.”

Steve gave her a tentative smile – she had sided with the law during Registration, but she'd also helped him and the others occasionally, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Especially of the fact that Tony had... let her do it? Sure, he probably hadn't been happy with her and her decision that one time, but she hadn't been amongst the prisoners at Prison 42, so.

“Yeah, well. Here I am.”

Misty let out a sigh – he wasn't entirely sure why – and looked around.

“Plans for tonight, Captain?”

“Not really. I...”

...was planning to go back home to ask his two best friends where his former best friend n°3 had disappeared to and why they'd let him. Considering neither Sam nor Bucky had thought it important enough to tell him yet – worse, maybe, that they might not have wanted to tell him, that they might have thought he didn't want to know, that he'd rather never speak of it again – well.

He wasn't, to be honest, that impatient to get home.

On top of that, Misty wasn't quite as personally concerned as Carol or Pepper Potts had been, which meant she might actually tell him what was going on.

“...Do you want to grab a drink?”

She squinted at him, head tilted, and seemed to find something – facial expression? Stature, perhaps? – to justify a positive answer.

“Why not. I guess you're trying to catch up with... everything. Might as well talk about it over a drink.”

Steve tried – failed – to ignore the obvious association his mind immediately made over the mention of drinks – Tony, not listening to him, refusing to get better, as if to spite Steve, but no, of course not, it hadn't been...

They ended up in a small pub where no one – not even the staff, which was a bit problematic, but right now Steve didn't care – paid them any attention.

Or perhaps it was Steve who wasn't paying attention, because five minutes later he noticed they both had a beer and he hadn't even noticed it getting there. He stared dumbfoundedly at the bottle for a moment, blinked, and decided it really wasn't that important.

He looked back at Misty, and finally asked one of the questions he couldn't get himself rid of.

“I... I really need to know. There's something up with Tony, and no one will tell me anything.”

Misty almost choked on her beer, and Steve found himself patting her on the back awkwardly. If that wasn't an indication that yes, something was up...

When she stopped coughing, she looked at him with wide brown eyes – but there was a distinct lack of surprise there, or at least it soon took over, as if, well. She hadn't expected that, but wasn't particularly surprised either, now that she thought about it.

Which begged the question of what, exactly, she wasn't surprised with.

A hard look settled on her face – Steve wasn't certain if it was towards himself, Tony, or the ones who hadn't told him about whatever was going on, though. For all he knew, it was for all of them lumped together.

“'Should have seen that one coming, I guess.”

Steve's hands clenched, as did his jaws. He was getting really, really done with not being told things – it wasn't Misty's fault, of course, not unless she did the exact same thing, which she hadn't done yet, but her words sure confirmed what he already knew: there was something he was missing, and it was something he should know about, except the people who should have told him just... hadn't.

Unless they were Tony, of course, who just wasn't here at all.

Misty took a swig of her beer, and – smiled, but not quite, there was something really unpleasant in that smile, and if Steve hadn't known any better, he'd think she blamed him for something, but didn't want to say it until he actually knew about it.

“Let me guess. You came back, and Tony wasn't there, never came to apologize or whatever it is you think he should do, and no one ever commented on it, and for a time you let it go, because you didn't want to talk about it, because you were angry and of course your anger was righteous, and now that you've asked, no one is giving you a straight answer.”

He decided to ignore her tone for now – because, there was something he was missing, and it was likely she wasn't angry with him, not that angry, at least, because she'd helped the resistance occasionally, so there had to be things she disagreed with in what Tony had done, there had to be, it just didn't make sense for her to sound like she wanted to rip him a new one.

So Steve winced.

“Well, Carol threw me out, and Pepper Potts almost did as much, when I asked them.”

Misty snorted.

“Good for them. I mean, sure, they could have told you, I guess, but they probably figured your dear friends had already told you, and you were being a self-righteous ass by asking that, of all things, to their faces. Anyway, your friends should really have told you themselves.”

Which, okay. Not what he had expected.

“You're talking about Sam and Bucky, right?”

She made a face – not a benevolent one.

“Yeah, I'm talking about Falcon and your war buddy. But also, all the others. All those who came to see you, who supported you, who thought you were right, and who never told you what happened, because that'd be admitting too much, wouldn't it? That'd be conceding that Tony had a point, not that they're doing themselves much of a favor by denying it either.”

Defensive – of what? Of what he'd fought for? Of Sam and Bucky? Of everyone else? – Steve tensed.

“And what point would that be?”

Misty took a moment to breathe slowly – in, out – probably in order not to say something she'd regret later.

“Accountability. SHRA wasn't perfect, and I told Tony so, but I also registered, Steve. Why? Because yes, other people can't quite understand what it is like, being like us, but they also have something we lack very much, and that's objectivity. You can't assume your judgment will always be right, and...”

“And in that case, the others step in, Misty! When one of us fucks up...”

The look she gave Steve made him shut up – it was like he was entirely missing the point, like it'd be goddamn funny if it wasn't so horrible, except Steve still didn't know what this was all about.

“We're a close-knit community, Captain. What happens when someone fucks up and no one wants to admit it?”

“It wouldn't happen. And still, there's the problem of way too much red tape, of administration, of, of...! Everything that was wrong with Registration!”

Misty just stared at him for a long time. Stared at her bottle. Finished it. Signaled for a second one. Steve guessed she came here often enough, as the waiter brought another beer.

She only spoke when the young man left.

“I want you to consider something, Steve. I'm black, and I'm a woman. Two facts that statistics will tell you make it very hard for me to, not only live, but be someone in this country. And yet, I used to be a police officer, until my injury got me out of the field. I didn't leave because I'd lost faith in the system, you see, I left because I couldn't do what I was best at anymore. And yes, I'm aware that regardless of individual merits, the police is generally not as fair to women or African-Americans as it is to white men. Still, I was a police officer, and I believe in what I did back then. Why? Because, the system might not have been perfect, but I could make sure that my part in it was right, and because we need a system. Or would you argue that, because black people are more or less discriminated against, we should not jail the ones who are guilty of crimes as some kind of twisted balance?”

He didn't have an answer to that, but it didn't mean SHRA was right for all that.

“It's not the same thing. The law is the same for everyone, it's the facts of its application that aren't quite as perfect. SHRA was flawed, unfair, and completely unethical to begin with.”

Misty shrugged, and drank some of her beer.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. But in the end, it doesn't change the fact that what you stood for was the absence of a system, regardless of the consequences. On the basis that 'superheroes can be trusted'.”

Steve felt compulsed to nuance, but somehow, this time, it sounded weak even to his own ears. He wasn't sure why.

“More like, we're better off trusting superheroes than the ones they'd have put in charge.”

Misty gave him a look – and, yeah, he guessed, considering Tony had been the one in charge first, and Tony was a superhero, well, it was, awkward enough a point, but. The next one had been Gyrich, and they'd all seen – not Steve, he'd been busy being dead and reliving all the events of his life, but he'd seen the results – what kind of catastrophe that had been.

Where the hell had Tony disappeared to, anyway?

How could he have let Gyrich at the helm, how could he...

Misty snorted, and seemingly decided not to look at him as she continued on.

“Anyway. You have to consider, you've been telling everyone that superheroes don't need oversight, that they don't make mistakes, and that when they do they police themselves. That they know what is right and what is wrong.”

There she looked at him. He really didn't like the gut feeling he was getting.

“So, when a situation arose in China, and Tony had to dedicate most of his processing power towards stemming the technological virus that was endangering thousands of lives, preventing him from reacting in time as someone attacked him physically on the Helicarrier at the same time, well.”

Misty took a moment to pause, to look him in the eyes – she wanted him to listen, to take the next words in, to be unable to deny what she'd told him, because it was going to be the truth, and he'd have to deal with it, and fuck it if he didn't like it.

She leaned in, her bionic fingers curled dangerously around her bottle of beer, and Steve wondered if there was a risk of her strength breaking the glass into pieces, because it was easier than to speaculate on what was coming.

He'd know soon enough, he could tell.

“When Tony was killed, because he was too fucking busy dealing with the next crisis to defend himself, because he'd always known how to prioritize, because it always ended up being at a personal cost, do you know what happened, Steve?”

He didn't have an answer. He couldn't... Tony wasn't dead, if Tony was dead, they'd... Someone would have... But they hadn't, and... He didn't... If Tony was dead, they'd have told him. They'd have told him.

Misty didn't smile – but not because she didn't want to be cruel, no. Because she'd cared about Tony, and she wasn't going to smile at his death, not even to hurt Steve.

Maybe she should.

“What happened is that no one said anything. The few of us who have our suspicions about what happened, about who killed him, don't have any kind of evidence to back it up, especially as SHIELD is keeping it quiet, possibly because Tony's last wishes said to do so, because he always knew how to prioritize, and it never mattered to him what would be the personal cost, beause he thought it was better that way. Because, to him, his murderer being brought to justice wasn't worth the consequences to the community.”

That couldn't... It didn't make any sense. What could be worth letting Tony's death go? What could...

Hill had said “personal circumstances” had taken Tony off the position of director of SHIELD and head of SHRA. She'd said...

Steve guessed death counted as personal circumstances.

What else had she said?

Misty wasn't done, though.

“Then there are all the others. Those I'm pretty sure know what happened, but are keeping a lid on it, like Spider-Man. Because, you understand, Steve, superheroes know what is right and what isn't. They wouldn't do something like executing Tony Stark, now, would they? Except, of course, if murder was now an acceptable behavior in particular circumstances, circumstances left to be determined, obviously, to the discretion of our people. Because superheroes know better. And, either way, if we don't talk about it, it's like it never happened. Right?”

“What are you trying to imply, Misty?”

What did she mean, Peter knew what had happened to Tony? SHIELD not saying anything was one thing, but Peter... Peter wouldn't.

What had Hill said?

Misty tilted her head to the right.

“You should ask your friends, Captain.”

And she stood up from her seat, but Steve – Steve needed more, she knew something, and she wasn't telling him, and he didn't care if she didn't have proof, he had to know, he...

He grabbed her arm – the left one, flesh – and immediately noticed as eyes turned towards them, locking on his hand – locked on her arm. He let go, but she'd stopped – for now – and he stood up, too, because he had to...

She really didn't look friendly anymore. Steve guessed she had a right not to, if what she was not saying was the truth – except she couldn't, they wouldn't have done that, and if they had, the others wouldn't have let it go, they would have done something about it.

“Look, Steve. Tony's dead, someone killed him, and they know for a fact who did it, but no one went and did anything about it, no one is even acknowledging it. So either it's because they consider it was the right thing to do, and they don't have to answer about it to anyone, because, you understand, we don't need oversight... or, they know it wasn't the right thing to do, but they don't say anything, because if they did, they'd have to admit that sometimes, we make mistakes, and we aren't always able to police ourselves, like you said we were. One way or another, it all boils down to the fact that they listened to you. And yeah, it might not have been what you meant, but it's what they heard. It's what everyone heard.”

Misty looked around, at the wary eyes around them, and Steve couldn't help but notice how they were eyeing her bionic arm, couldn't help but wonder if they recognized him – if they were afraid of Misty Knight and Captain America, because she might try to defend herself, and she had a right to, except they couldn't, not against her, not against him, and if they got caught in the middle, that was what it would boild down to. Because supers didn't answer to anyone, not unless they wanted to.

Then she looked back at him, as she reached into her pockets to pay for – both – their drinks.

“What everyone heard was that superpowered people could do whatever they wanted, because of course they know where is the line, and when they cross it the others would step in. Except, what happens when no one steps in, Steve?”

“...But it's not what I said!”

“It's still what they heard. And they used it to justify the fact that they didn't want to step in, because a lot of them thought Tony had ordered the hit on you, because they didn't like having been told that they should answer to someone, because, because, because. And now, now that we all know the Red Skull had you killed, not Tony, now that it's obvious they can't use your name and memory to justify his execution, well.”

They left the pub – really, Steve was just following after Misty, because what she was saying didn't make sense, because it couldn't be true, because they wouldn't have, because...

Because if Tony was dead, it had to be for something that made sense, because, because, because he'd been too stubborn, because he'd sacrificed himself for the greater good, because, because, because he hadn't wanted to listen to anyone, because he'd thought he knew better, because he hadn't trusted anyone to do the job with him, because, because, because...

Because it would mean it was Tony's own fault, but what would it matter, anyway, if Tony was dead nonetheless, if...

Tony hadn't ordered the hit, Tony hadn't killed Steve, but if what Misty was saying was true...

Hill sneering at him, and Misty looking him in the eyes. You should ask your friends.

Tony hadn't killed Steve, and if Misty was right, Steve had all but killed Tony.

It didn't matter that it hadn't been what he'd meant, because Tony was dead, and he wouldn't be if Steve had done things differently. Wasn't that the exact kind of thing Steve had blamed Tony for with Bill Foster?

Before he knew it, Misty told him to be well – he wasn't listening, he barely noticed – and Steve was standing alone, in the middle of the street, because, because, because.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Really, considering how much shit Tony got for Steve's death, I don't think this is particularly mean as far as reversing the situation goes. ( And, come on. The only reason this didn't happen in canon isn't because everyone on Steve's side was so kind and shiny and perfect, but because Tony was good enough to prevent it from happening. Can you seriously imagine what Steve would have to say if he'd come back and Bucky told him, oh, btw, I may or may not have murdered Stark because I thought I was avenging you, my mistake? ).  
> Besides the fact that I killed Tony, of course.


End file.
